When it comes to hard, heavy questions, no organization asks them like the League of Extraordinary Bloggers. This week’s League topic is no exception with the biggest question of them all: “You have the opportunity to spend the night at any residence in pop culture. Where do you go?”
We thought of all the obvious answers, such as the Ghostbusters headquarters or the Jetson’s home. We made sure to steer clear of anything worth avoiding, such as the Poltergeist house or anywhere Urkel or Skippy might show up unannounced. Ultimately, we each settled on the following…
Linz: Barbie’s Townhouse
This was a difficult decision, but when it came down to it, I had to go with Barbie’s Townhouse as my pop culture residence of choice.
Oh that lovely decor!
I was big into Barbie when I was little. I probably had 50 dolls and a ton of the Living Pretty furniture (the first Christmas I remember, I asked Santa for a Barbie bed. Not a Barbie-branded bed for me, but a bed for my Barbie so she could sleep well at night), the airplane and the motor home, but for years I didn’t have any actual house for Barbie. My dad would build houses out of cardboard boxes for me, and that actually worked really well. We’d even decorate them with catalog clippings so they were “carpeted” and had windows and all that.
Those columns were a big deal (and something my dad was so pleased about putting together).
Later on, my dad’s friend gave him a Barbie Townhouse that his daughter no longer used. I was crazy excited for one reason: Barbie now had an elevator! No stairs for this long-legged bitch, no. She could leisurely travel up three flights by hopping on an elevator. My house had three floors, and I had to use the stairs. What the hell is that all about?
My Barbie’s Townhouse was slightly more “modern” but even then… yikes.
Barbie was pretty happy with the elevator (mine was white, I think it was the 80s version) and even more so with those white pillars, which I imagined were white marble columns. We definitely didn’t have those kickin’ around.
In closing, if I could shrink down to 11.5” size and bang my Luke Perry doll, I’d be all over the Barbie Townhouse.
Lee: House on Haunted Hill
That’s a cheerful picture.
You read my choice and are wondering why on Earth I would want to stay overnight in a haunted house? Because a stay in that creep hole is worth ten thousand big ones. In the film, horror icon Vincent Price invites a host of people over and promises to write checks to anyone who doesn’t run away screaming at the sight of his fake skeletons. Spending the evening being entertained by Vincent Price and earning ten grand? Geez, I should be paying him for the privilege!
Pretty sure I could’ve outrun him!
Anyway, I’m pretty convinced that I could have made it through the night as long as I didn’t have to memorize the plethora of other guest’s names. I’ve seen enough episodes of the Twilight Zone and the Real Ghostbusters to know how to handle myself against bad props and ridiculous ghouls. Honestly, I probably would’ve figured out it was Vincent Price behind the scares pretty early on during my stay. Between the two of us, the night probably would’ve gone from scary to wacky as we shoved bananas in car tailpipes like it was some bad scene out of Beverly Hills Cop.
I have the same recurring dream.
Go ahead, laugh at my choice of pop culture houses I could stay at for the night. I’ll be the one laughing all the way to the bank with a big pile of Benjamins, holding my autographed 8×10 photo of Vincent Price.
So where did other members of the League want to go?